In the Darkness We Can See the Stars

While I am hesitant to say the desert is behind me, for I'm fairly sure it is not, I can say at least that light is visible in the distance. This has been a particularly arid desert, dark night, whatever, and has broken and challenged me down to the very framework of my faith. Faith emerged unscathed, but I am battered, bruised, and humbled.

You will recall how I wanted to know why we did not live as people of the resurrection, and focused on the suffering instead? I found out. Until you pass through the night of suffering, the desert of puff adders and horrendous "demons" you cannot be resurrected to new life in Christ. And! That is why so few people really can live in the resurrection.

Clearly I am no great saint or I'd have been left in this desert for the rest of my life, either that or I don't depend on my ability to sense God's presence for comfort. Realizing that I am not defined by my feelings released me from worrying about whether or not I could feel God's presence. God is present, that's all. Feel it or not, God is present.

The desert/night was not about God's presence or lack thereof, it was about my ability to make it on faith alone, no props. Liturgical prayer? Gah, it bored me to tears: I did it anyway. Rosary? Gah, pointless: I did it anyway. All that had been sweet was now bitter, and somehow I had to keep going NO MATTER WHAT.

It pains me to say it, but the pain I live with helped me see that unless I live by faith, in God, I have nothing at all. What most shocked me? The appearance of Atheists in my life trying valiantly to point out to me the foolishness of faith, and religion, etc. I was stunned, I thought the evil one was more subtle than that.

All in all, I'm alive, with faith, and still doing what I have set myself to do: live the resurrected life of Christ.

Peace.